Sascha’s Smoky Detour
By Limewah
Commission for Moggers
Featuring characters from Disney properties

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There were two things that made it clear Sir Hiss was taking his charge, Sascha, through the halls. One was the constant, repetitive jingle and clink of the glittering jewellery hanging off the body of the tall, muscular tigress, as well as the further rattle of coins buried in her very ample cleavage, like a sort of improvised coin-purse.
The other was the constant stream of high-tenor lisping from the snake and echoing through the corridors.
“I mussst sssay, it is ssso deeply disappointing to ssee that you haven’t made even one jot of progresss! I would think that, after having had three full weeksss to practice your mental endurancssse, that you would lassst longer than a few ssseconds under my gaze. And look at you now. Ssso deeply hypnotised. Really, Sssassscha. What is the point of these lessons if you won’t take them to heart? I hope you are lissstening to me now at leassst.”
Sascha was only half-listening. The words were there, but she was having trouble understanding their meaning or their message. Her eyes spun with blue and green rings of colour, her eyes wide, her face a blank mask. The tigress was loping with sleepwalking strides through the castle halls, blank and relaxed as he followed the yellow serpent with the red, feathered cap balanced on his head. 

Sir Hiss had been trying to train her to resist hypnotism, but she had failed quite miserably once again. He was scolding her as he slithered through the castle halls, and she followed in turn.  They were headed straight for his quarters, where he planned to continue his scolding until he fell into a deep sleep, wrapped around her like a ribbon.
“How are you ssssupposssed to rule the kingdom if you can’t resssissst any intrusion into your mind?” Sir Hiss continued. “It almost ssseemsss to me like you enjoy falling under my ssspell. Every sssingle bit of training you’ve excssselled at, everything that will make you a good princess… all will amount to nothing if you can be turned with jussst a glancssse into a sssnake’sss eyes!”

An ornate, violet door opened as the pair passed, not a hint of light escaping the interior. A long tendril of smoke floated from it, weaving a parabolic journey towards the slowly stumbling feline.
Sascha remained placidly dumbfounded, only faintly noticing the strange wisp of glittering grey as it wove around her shoulders in a loop, before tying off into a tight noose that wrapped around her and yanked her - hard - back through the open door.
“Have you anything to sssay for yourssself? Of courssse you don’t. Huff. I’ll have to ssssqueeze some sssenssse into you.”
Sir Hiss tutted, rolling his eyes, not breaking his slithering stride at all, unaware that the tigress was gone as he continued his rant.

Even as she was pulled, Sascha’s eyes remained spiralling, two sources of light in the dimness. She stumbled through, her feet scrabbling for purchase against the carpeted floor. Her nose unconsciously flared at the sweet blueberry scent of vapour from a large golden hookah. A long tube connected it to a thin mouthpiece, cradled in the hands of a blue, multi-armed caterpillar lounging on a thickly upholstered mushroom-shaped sofa. His massive body was curled around it, easily five times the length of Sascha’s body. The caterpillar had a humanoid face, with sleepy eyes and an aristocratic pout. He took a long drag of the hookah, and expelled a rainbow coloured plume of smoke before the quiet tiger. His long exhale lead directly into his first question.
“What is all that racket about?” his voice was languid and slow, and the vapour turned into a question mark as it vanished. 
Sascha’s brow knitted in as she wracked her sleepy, swirl-pickled brains to remember.
“I don’t… know…”
“Well then, who are you?” the caterpillar smacked his lips, his eyes roving along her shapely figure. 
Again Sascha paused for thought, eyes lazily swirling. She was trying to remember her name, but her thoughts just kept going back to the endlessly swirling rings, and what the chiding snake had said to her.
“I’m… deeply hypnotised?” she said. That sounded right…
“If that is the case, deeply hypnotised… come here.” the caterpillar exhaled another long plume, this one forming into a multi-coloured spiral that twisted and braided into a beckoning hand. Sascha’s body processed it, and began to sleepwalk forward. 

The caterpillar’s legs scuttled forward, bringing the end of his body in front of her. She stepped gracefully onto it, her jewellery and coinage still tinkling and jangling with each step she took. Her arms dangled, as her eyes fell closed. She stepped along each segment of his body and turn, feeling it squish under her weight with a water-bed bounce.
The caterpillar laid on the couch, watching her with an expression that would have looked like boredom. But he did not take his eyes off her - particularly the heave and bounce of her breasts - each step making them shake and ripple, just a hint of coinage poking out shyly from the cleavage. 
He took another deep pull from his hookah, and when he exhaled this time, it created a thick cloud of fog.
He allowed her to step off of his coils, directly into the cushioned, cloud like plumes of smoke. An impromptu staircase of sorts, a series of platforms that continued to lead her higher into the darkness of the caterpillar’s boudoir.
“Can you feel the letters below your feet?” the caterpillar asked. Spell them out for me as you walk, if you please, my dear.”

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